explained her gifts.”
“In that case, aren’t we all poor substitutes for her?” Darcy remembered everything and associated values based on educated judgment and years of experience as a top-notch operative. That was hard to beat. But equally important to Maggie, she trusted Darcy. Still, not wanting a warwith Justin, Maggie toned down her response. “So far, your assistance has been helpful,” she said, and meant it. “You have a calm manner, Justin. It went over well with the store owners.”
They turned the corner and he looked into the window at Macy’s. Giant red and gold shiny balls hung from green banners. “I’m really not the devil incarnate, Maggie.”
“I never said you were.” She stopped, looked down the length of the thoroughfare. Center Court’s stage and pit were to her right; specialty stores, to the left. She paused, mentally moving down the corridor and counting receptacles. “First on the list for Will is to have all the trash receptacles removed.”
Justin scrawled it down, his pen scratching on the page. “It’s going to get really messy in here.”
“No doubt it will, but trash cans are easy targets and impossible to protect, which means they have to go.” She walked on, sniffing intently.
After about three minutes, Justin’s curiosity got the better of him. “What are you doing?”
“Smelling. The mall is using aromatherapy to influence shoppers’ buying tendencies and to create positive subliminal messages to shoppers about being in the facility,” she said, flipping a finger toward his notepad. “Add a cease-and-desist to Will’s list.” Fragrance easily masked biological contaminates. “Also, make a note that we need to address aromatherapy with the individual owners.” She waited, but he didn’t write anything. She lifted a questioning eyebrow.
“Both are already on the list,” he said matter-of-factly. “Picked up on them immediately, and noted them.”
“Really?” she asked, suitably impressed.
“The mall thoroughfares and corridors smell like Christmas pine, and nearly every store has its own specific scent—coffee, lemon, fresh air, and even salt water, though I won’t hazard a guess as to why.”
“Fishing,” Maggie said. “It’s huge here.”
“Ah, of course.” Justin nodded. “All are distinct, though some of the scents are subtle. Others are blatant.” He grunted. “I wonder how many times people come here and never notice that?”
“A lot, I imagine,” Maggie said. “Few outside the field think in terms of fragrance masking bio-contaminates.” She paused and checked the center rounds. About eight feet in diameter, they were raised beds, home to potted plants and huge palms. “All of these rounds need to be netted.” They formed a line down the center of the common areas throughout all three levels.
Justin blinked hard, scribbled that down. “I missed that, damn it. It’d be ridiculously easy to drop in a vial.”
They walked on, through Center Court. On the far end, near the escalator and stairs, the stage stood empty. The heavy red-velvet drapes were tied to its white-column sides with thick gold ropes. “We’ll need to blockade that space under the platform.” Anything could be hidden under it. She looked down the wide marble steps to the pit that would be filled with snow. About three feet deep, it was roughly the size of a basketball court.
A ruckus erupted just outside the Tot Shop. Will Stanton surfaced right in the middle of it, planting himself between two shouting men. “Just calm down,” Will said, his voice carrying over to Maggie.
“We’d better see what’s up,” Maggie said, and walked over with Justin staying at her side.
The redhead from the auditorium meeting stood to the left of them, her round face pale. “I want him arrested. He’s in my store, spraying that…that…thing.”
Maggie looked at the “thing” and recognized it as an inhaler. She stepped forward. “May I see that?”
The
“In that case, aren’t we all poor substitutes for her?” Darcy remembered everything and associated values based on educated judgment and years of experience as a top-notch operative. That was hard to beat. But equally important to Maggie, she trusted Darcy. Still, not wanting a warwith Justin, Maggie toned down her response. “So far, your assistance has been helpful,” she said, and meant it. “You have a calm manner, Justin. It went over well with the store owners.”
They turned the corner and he looked into the window at Macy’s. Giant red and gold shiny balls hung from green banners. “I’m really not the devil incarnate, Maggie.”
“I never said you were.” She stopped, looked down the length of the thoroughfare. Center Court’s stage and pit were to her right; specialty stores, to the left. She paused, mentally moving down the corridor and counting receptacles. “First on the list for Will is to have all the trash receptacles removed.”
Justin scrawled it down, his pen scratching on the page. “It’s going to get really messy in here.”
“No doubt it will, but trash cans are easy targets and impossible to protect, which means they have to go.” She walked on, sniffing intently.
After about three minutes, Justin’s curiosity got the better of him. “What are you doing?”
“Smelling. The mall is using aromatherapy to influence shoppers’ buying tendencies and to create positive subliminal messages to shoppers about being in the facility,” she said, flipping a finger toward his notepad. “Add a cease-and-desist to Will’s list.” Fragrance easily masked biological contaminates. “Also, make a note that we need to address aromatherapy with the individual owners.” She waited, but he didn’t write anything. She lifted a questioning eyebrow.
“Both are already on the list,” he said matter-of-factly. “Picked up on them immediately, and noted them.”
“Really?” she asked, suitably impressed.
“The mall thoroughfares and corridors smell like Christmas pine, and nearly every store has its own specific scent—coffee, lemon, fresh air, and even salt water, though I won’t hazard a guess as to why.”
“Fishing,” Maggie said. “It’s huge here.”
“Ah, of course.” Justin nodded. “All are distinct, though some of the scents are subtle. Others are blatant.” He grunted. “I wonder how many times people come here and never notice that?”
“A lot, I imagine,” Maggie said. “Few outside the field think in terms of fragrance masking bio-contaminates.” She paused and checked the center rounds. About eight feet in diameter, they were raised beds, home to potted plants and huge palms. “All of these rounds need to be netted.” They formed a line down the center of the common areas throughout all three levels.
Justin blinked hard, scribbled that down. “I missed that, damn it. It’d be ridiculously easy to drop in a vial.”
They walked on, through Center Court. On the far end, near the escalator and stairs, the stage stood empty. The heavy red-velvet drapes were tied to its white-column sides with thick gold ropes. “We’ll need to blockade that space under the platform.” Anything could be hidden under it. She looked down the wide marble steps to the pit that would be filled with snow. About three feet deep, it was roughly the size of a basketball court.
A ruckus erupted just outside the Tot Shop. Will Stanton surfaced right in the middle of it, planting himself between two shouting men. “Just calm down,” Will said, his voice carrying over to Maggie.
“We’d better see what’s up,” Maggie said, and walked over with Justin staying at her side.
The redhead from the auditorium meeting stood to the left of them, her round face pale. “I want him arrested. He’s in my store, spraying that…that…thing.”
Maggie looked at the “thing” and recognized it as an inhaler. She stepped forward. “May I see that?”
The
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